Gerard;
Getting home after school is like a breath of fresh air, it's like entering a new life. Today was just kicking my ass and I really just wanted to go home all day. I'm honestly surprised I lasted as long as I did without writing in my journal, granted it wasn't exactly my choice. So, the first thing I do when I walk in the door is skip the conversation with Mom about how school went and go to my bedroom. I practically jump onto my desk chair and plop my journal on the table. I flip to the page I left off on, the one talking about how the word gay is used incorrectly. At just the mere thought of that, I close my eyes for a brief second and let out a long sigh.
Now, what to write about? I flip back through those seven hours, almost like rewinding a film, and think and search for something that even mildly interests me. Frank really interests me, in every class I see him in, he's my main focus. I like his mannerisms, the way he does things. They're all things that I like to just watch. Like the way he brushes his bangs out of his eyes when he's doing a worksheet, they way he pulls his long sleeves over his hands, how he subconsciously swings his feet back and forth when they don't reach the floor. It's all interesting, I'd like to write about it, but watching it is where all the fun is.
I think about everything from what I learned in biology to getting pushed and shoved in the halls. Then something clicks, I remember something I saw at the start of hallpassing during the beginning of the day. A boy, who I believe is a senior, was laying on the floor in the hallway. Just laying there.
Laying in the floor...?
Unknown. Senior.
During hall passing a boy was laying in the middle of the hallway. Was he trying to get trampled? Why would somebody even let the thought of doing that pass through their mind? Especially in a high school. Maybe he was dared to, maybe it was for attention, or maybe he did it to see if anyone would notice and step over him. I think that someone who's been in high school as long as he has should know that nobody in the hallways gives a crap. They will step on you. High schoolers are heartless.
It's a bit short but I don't care, I couldn't think of anything on that topic to just explain. So, I close my journal and let it sit ony desk while I dismiss myself to get a snack. Getting a snack will more than likely turn into a long conversation with my mom about how school went or the like, but it's worth it, I'm starving and talking to my mom is a great pass time, the right topic just needs to be brought up.
I walk down the hallway and turn into the kitchen, finding it empty. Well, Mom doesn't spend every moment in the kitchen, but when she does it usually involves making some grade A food. I look through the cabinets for some chips, crackers, or any sort of snack food. I'm not really picky, I'll eat just about anything. Looking around, I discover Mom and Dad didn't buy any junk food, so I pick up a Ramen Noodle pack and a bowl and make that.
